


to play, to own, to torture, to love

by hiimitsuxx



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hidan (Naruto) Swears, Human Sacrifice, Jashinism, Kakuzu - Freeform, Knifeplay, Naruto Shippuden - Freeform, Non-Consensual Touching, Rituals, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Violence, Smut, Stockholm Syndrome, Yandere, naruto - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23948914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiimitsuxx/pseuds/hiimitsuxx
Summary: There was something about you that had been different; something about you that Hidan became obsessed with and obsessed with keeping to himself. Keeping to himself to play with, to taunt, to own, to torture, to love. Hidan has so much in store for you. Will you be able to survive his love?WARNING: This story involves yandere tendencies and dark themes that may not be easy to read. Please read the tags before continuing. Thank you for all your support.
Relationships: Hidan (Naruto)/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 74





	1. prologue: winters day

**Author's Note:**

> Hidan is a pretty fucked up yandere. I've not seen too many explorations of Hidan as a yandere with a reader who's not completely all on board with Jashinism and the type of person Hidan is - so here is my interpretation of how it'd be! Feedback is always encouraged! :)

When falling for someone as cruel and as vicious as the man before you, you’re stuck only with the bitter question that clings to the back of your mind,  _ well, what did you expect? _ How you became friends with the Jashinist, was a miracle in itself, considering, the only motives he possessed were to kill for his god. But there was something about you that had been different; something about you that he became obsessed with and obsessed with keeping to  _ himself. _ Keeping to himself to play with, to taunt, to own, to  _ torture _ , to  **_love._ **

You met on a cold winter's day, the small village you lived in was not too far from where you were hiking in the forests, once enjoying the snow that was falling delicately around you until it became unbearable. Suddenly, it was much too cold, and the light jacket around your shoulders wasn’t enough to protect you from the sharp scrapes of the wind. There had been a cry in the distance that sounded too familiar to one of a birds, so you ignored it, all too focused on the task at hand to get home where it was warm and comfortable and you were safe from the cold; forget creatures that lurked in the dark, or in this case, a mad man on a spree. 

The snow piled around you making it more and more difficult to walk and see where you’re going. Your mind was becoming hazy and disoriented. That’s why when a figure stepped in front of you, covered in splatters of blood and a tall scythe in its hand, you thought it was only a figure of your imagination; your mind playing tricks on you as it succumbed to the cold. You banged into the figure, who didn’t seem to budge, though you tripped slightly over your feet, but continued on your way.

“What the fuck!?” You turned around to see the figure, a man, who now towered over you, glowering, absolute disgust across his handsome features. He wasn’t so tall, but taller than you; not much older than you either. He had eyes that were purple… more a shade of fuchsia, you thought. His hair was slicked back, silver, kept tidily away from his face. He wore an odd cloak with red clouds spaced perfectly around it. The cloak parted at the top revealing a toned, smooth chest. You couldn’t help but wonder how he wasn’t freezing his ass off. 

Up close, the blood that dripped down from his mouth and covered his torso, and clothing, was much more obvious. “Fucking bitch,” he spat, the grip on his scythe tightening as he stepped closer to you.

You frowned, raising a shaky hand upwards to flick at the center of his forehead. “That’s rude.” The action surprised him, momentarily stunning him as he gaped at you. It surprised you slightly, too. Why you decided to do such a thing to a stranger covered in blood baring an intimidating weapon was beyond you. Maybe it was the cold that was getting to you and the desperation to get home. 

“The fuck!? You bumped into  _ me _ !” 

“Well… I didn’t see you,” you quickly responded, turning away from him continuing on your path. You could hear the snow crunching behind you.

“How could you not see me? The snow isn’t  _ that  _ bad,” he snarls. His voice is quite booming, you note. It’s slightly raspy but with how loud he’s being, that trait to his voice is almost completely masked. “I’ll kill you.”

“Can you do it tomorrow?”

“Eh?”

You weren’t really thinking through your words. You knew you should probably be running but it wasn’t like your legs would work that well at the moment anyways. It wasn’t like the snow wouldn’t make it all the more difficult to sprint. “I  _ said _ , can you do it tomorrow? I’m tired and I’m cold, I’d rather die well rested and warm.” That part was true.

You kept walking, his footsteps still following behind you but it was quiet for a while. “Why are you following me?” you asked.

“Are you stupid? How am I going to kill you tomorrow if I don’t know where you fucking live.”   
  
“Right,” you remembered. You kept walking, only a couple times looking behind your shoulder to see if he was still following. He was. His eyes always on you, sharp and intense. “What’s your name?”

“None of your fucking business, bitch.”

“My name is y/n.”

“Does it look like I care?” The pitch in his voice raising.

“Do you not like to know the names of the people you kill?”

“No.” Silence again. You could see the entrance to your village just up ahead and you sighed with relief. The man behind you muttered something under his breath. When you asked him to repeat himself, you finally learnt his name. “Hidan. It’s fucking Hidan, are you deaf?”

It didn’t entirely surprise you when the man, Hidan, entered your home after you. He looked around the place, lazily tossing his scythe onto the ground before he laid down on the small couch in your living room. “What are you doing?” You asked.

“What does it fucking look like? I’m getting some sleep so I can kill you in the morning,” he responds, closing his eyes and lounging into the cushion. 

“Oh. Want a blanket?” He peeked an eye open to see if you were serious. By the deadpan look on your face and position ready to go get if he did, he realized you were. This would be the first time you see him somewhat smile as a smirk stretches across his face. You amuse him. 

He didn’t kill you in the morning. He did, however, eat a lot of your food and chat your ear off about some god of his. It was kind of amusing and made you smile, momentarily forgetting this man was a murderer you so carelessly lead to your home. Stupid as it may be, you asked why he hadn’t killed you yet when he announced he had to leave for his “dumb mission.” He rolled his eyes and declared he was too busy at the moment and would kill you when he got back.

You didn’t really know if you’d see him again. Something in the back of your mind told you you would, and in the end, that hunch you had was correct. He showed up two weeks later, not to kill you, but to complain about his partner. Hidan made seeing you a regular occurance, and you couldn’t deny that you liked it. In fact, as the time stretched on, it became the only thing you looked forward to. Moments with this strange, crazy man became something you craved, and something, you loved. He went on and on about his lord Jashin, complained a hell ton, and was rude and mean, but something about Hidan was addicting. Maybe it was the way he smiled cheekily at you, or how every crude comment seemed to have some hidden intent behind it, or how his hand would rest in your back pocket when you two walked together. 

When he first showed you what he was truly capable of, sacrificing a man in the most vicious of ways, and most supernatural of ways too, you should have been terrified. You should have immediately been wary and immediately on edge. But your life was so  _ boring _ , and ever since Hidan had entered it, it had been exciting. Sure, you did not deny you were surprised and a little frightened by the shifting of his skin colour and ability to kill his victims by harming himself. However the way his hand came to rest on the top of your head, and the sly grin that plastered his face, soothed you somehow. Somehow, you were laughing. It caught him off guard but after a while, he laughed with you. You’ll get used to it. You’ll see plenty more of these rituals and he’ll make sure you come to enjoy them as much as he does, that’s for sure. 

It didn’t take long for you to realize you had fallen in love with him. You wanted him. You wanted to be with him, you wanted to be officially  _ something  _ with him. Your life had been so dull and lonely, but then he entered; psychotic and energizing, and  **_god, you wish right now you ran away or let him kill you that day in the snow._ **

“Spit it out,” he snapped, growing tired of you awkwardly shifting back and forth on the heels of your feet. He didn’t understand what was so important that you had to tell him, or why you were struggling to form the words for it. He gripped your face harshly but there was a tint of playfulness as he squished your cheeks and childishly went, “come on, come on, come on,  _ come on _ , bitch, I haven’t got all day.”

Your cheeks a rosy hue, the words, “I love you,” barely made it past your lips, but it was loud enough for Hidan to stop, pulling his hand away from you and his face morphing into shock. It was quite daunting, standing under his gaze having just confessed. You didn’t know how he was going to react and that terrified you. Would he reject you and never come to see you again? Maybe now he’d kill you. It was eerily silent,  _ much _ too silent for Hidan, that you could only expect the worse. 

You were about to turn away when suddenly his lips crashed against yours in a rough, forced kiss. It was sloppy, and a little bit painful as his teeth smashed against yours and bit at your lip. But it didn’t take too long for the both of you to find a steady motion of your lips moving against each other. And it didn’t take too long for the butterflies in your stomach to appear as you clung to him, trying to pull yourself closer against him if it were even more possible.

It all felt so perfect, that when his hand wrapped around your throat you didn’t think much of it. When you couldn’t breathe, you thought it was from the kiss and how utterly breathtaking and magical it was; not because he was squeezing your throat, cutting off the airway. 

He pulled away, and what you hoped to see was a loving, warm smile, was instead a look to be simply described as pure evil. Manic. He laughed, his hand squeezing tighter and you clawed at the limb, confused and frightened. 

“Oh, yes, y/n, yes,  _ yes,  _ **_finally_ ** , you’ve made this so much fucking easier. Now we can fucking be together!”

“I- I don’t understand, what are you-?” Everything went black as he smashed your head against a nearby tree. You woke up in a dark room, alone, on an uncomfortable mattress, foot chained to a pole stationed in the center of the room. Your head hurt. There was blood on the mattress that leaked from your head. You couldn’t help the overflow of hot sticky tears dripping down your cheeks as the door opened revealing Hidan; but not the man you had fallen in love with.  _ No _ , this was the man covered in blood that you should have run from that winter day.

“I… I-I don’t understand. Why have you brought me here…! Why can’t you just kill me? Like you do everyone else. Just kill me! Please, just kill me!”

“Babe… because I love you too. This is Jashin’s reward to me, I get to have you. And we’re gonna be so fucking happy together, y/n… keep crying. You know I fucking love it.” 

**_Hidan has so much in store for you. Will you be able to survive his love?_ **


	2. Chapter 1: Jashin's Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are Jashin's gift to Hidan... cry all you want, scream all you want, beg for death, but... you won't die. 
> 
> Scream louder. Oh, he loves it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so-- so sorry for the late post, I honestly was not expecting to get as much feedback as I did. I am incredibly grateful and beyond excited to hear your thoughts and hear you’re looking forward to the continuing of my story. 
> 
> REMINDER: Please be wary of the tags. This story contains heavy themes, please do not read if it makes you uncomfortable. Thank you :)

If even possible, you try to push yourself further against the wall, but the intense throbbing behind your eyes, and the searing pain to the side of your head stops you immediately. You hiss at the ringing in your ears, the dark splotches suddenly clouding your vision. Hidan is speaking, you can see that, but not hear, the ringing is too loud and too painful; it’s difficult to focus but he looks angry. A dark scowl paints his features and spit flies from his mouth as he gets closer. It takes you a moment to realize he’s making heavy strides towards you, kneeling in front of you and landing a heavy slap against your cheek.

Your head lols to the side and blood pools at the mouth, inelegantly dripping down your chin to the dirty mattress beneath you. The slap, as painful as it is, at the very least stops the horrible ringing in your ears. But though you glare at him defiantly, offended by his harsh actions and audacity to treat you so horrifically, the slap doesn’t do enough to clear the damaged vision as very soon your eyes cloud with tears. “Are you even fucking listening to me?” he spits. He grabs your chin, his fingers digging into the soft skin, wretching a groan from your throat. 

_ Breathe, breathe. Getting angry won't help, yelling won’t fix anything _ . The pain in your head becomes increasingly ghastly; your head, that's the main focus. You need to stop the bleeding, you need Hidan to stop the bleeding, or just do _something_ , so play his sick game for now. Until you can run, escape - escape that fate you sealed for yourself when so foolishly confessed to a man who is incapable of truly loving - you have to go along with it. 

Shakingly, you grab his offending wrist, the action making him harshen his grip on your chin. You wince, his nails are fucking sharp. He’s breaking your skin and it  _ fucking hurts. _ “Hidan…” you mumble. His eyes wander over your face, taking in every bit of you; taking note of how you quiver under his gaze and flinch at his touch, how your eyes water and whimpers fall loosely from your lips. It’s all so… beautiful to him. Your pain, your agony, your fear, and it's all his - _his, his, **his**_ \- to admire and create. To love. The way his lips form into a smirk is terrifying. “P...Please. My head. I-It’s bleeding too much. It hurts. You need to stop the bleeding. You need to get me help, I’m gonna die-”

“Shut the fuck up.” 

_ Slap!  _

Though this hit is much harder, sending you flying down on the mattress, and the ringing returns. “You’re not gonna fucking die, Lord Jashin gave you to me as a gift, so he’s not letting you fucking die. In fact,” something cold and bumpy pushes on your cheek. His fucking foot. You shout as the heel of his sandal presses into your face, getting dirt into your eye and bruising your skin. It’s almost suffocating as it pushes you farther into the mattress. You grab at his ankle to try and push him off but he’s too strong and doesn’t budge. “I can do whatever the fuck I want to do to you. You’re not gonna fucking die. So keep whining, bitch, I fucking _love_ you when you cry.” 

Indeed, your sweet whimpers of distress are like music to his ears; he loves it, he loves you, succumbing to glorious agony at his hand. To him, it’s all so beautiful, and he has no other way to show his love then by hurting you and sharing pain that he holds so dear to him. This is how it’s meant to be, he thinks. You at his whim. You at his feet writhing in utter fear as your body burns in strain. 

He laughs as you start to shout at him, breaking before him and any little bit of composure you were holding onto desemating before his eyes. Hidan’s laugh is mean. It’s _taunting_. Almost as if it’s beckoning you to keep cursing him and giving him more reason to hurt you. “Fuck you! I hate you, you mother fucker!” Smushing his foot against your cheek he continues to laugh but you go a little too far; _**“Fuck you, and fuck your stupid god!”**_

In an instant his foot is rising to smash into the side of your already wounded head. It’s an amazing experience, the world going completely dark besides little white lights in the corner of your eyes. And everything seems so quiet and so loud at the same time; it’s silent, but you can hear your heartbeat beating so fast, fast, fast in your ears. And you can feel your skin tearing. For a moment you’re paralyzed, unable to move as Hidan’s hand wraps around your throat in a vice grip, yanking you towards him, face to face. Your knees dangle above the mattress, and saliva and blood foams at your mouth as you choke.

“Dumb cunt!” Spit flies from his mouth landing solidly on your eyebrow. You have no energy to grimace. “How fucking dare you say that about Lord Jashin. Be a bitch to me but don’t say _shit_ about Jashin. Say you’re fucking sorry.” 

He loosens his grip just a little to hear you speak, but holding on to that defiance you shake your head. It's an immediate regret you feel after he drops you from his hold. You’re prepared to maybe be kicked in the face or stomach, but your eyes widen in terror as suddenly he bends down, collecting blood on his thumb from the gash in your head, then licking it. Cutting his own wrists and letting the blood flow down to the ground, you recognize the symbol he draws with his foot.

“I-I’m…” apologizes fall incoherently from your lips as you try to crawl towards him to stop him. All of it is futile as the colour of his skin changes before you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Hidan. Hidan, Hidan, please, _I’m sorry._ ” 

“Together, y/n, we will feel the glory of Jashin’s gift.” A smile that could almost be mistaken for being soft, if you couldn’t see the crazed look in his eyes, spreads across his face. “Together we will endure the pain of death and find true release, true ecstasy, and then,” he grins, pulling out a pole from his cloak. Oh, the look of terror in your eyes, is so addictive. “Then… you’ll be sorry.”

You screech as you latch onto his ankle, shaking vigorously in hopes to snap him out of his ritual and just _stop_. The world around you seems to slow down as he raises the point of the pole directly towards his heart. His violet eyes never leave yours, boring deep into your soul and relishing in the fear that is ever so apparent on your face. Your pleads fall on deaf ears and all it takes is a single kick from his to have you falling backwards.

Lost in your hysterics, you don’t even realize that Hidan has plunged the pole within him, piercing his heart and moaning out in true bliss at the feeling of his flesh tearing, till blood is pooling once again at your mouth, falling down your chin in heavy flows; and the pain of your heart being penetrated is suddenly too quick, too sharp, too agonizing, and your entire body seems to light up in flames it hurts so much. 

It’s difficult to breathe as blood clogs your airways. You teeter forward, flat onto your face mushed against the flea infested mattress, face right into the bloody circle on the ground. Hidan watches as you compulse and weakly try to claw at your chest to scratch away the pain, if it were possible. For a split second, you fall calm. 

This is what you wanted, afterall. _**To die.**_

For Hidan to put you out of your misery. So for a few moments you're calm, allowing the pain to wash over your body, and allowing all the feelings to just disappear. One by one your senses seem to turn off; you can’t see anything but white light, can only hear silence, can feel nothing but the single twitch of your finger.

_This is death_ ; you always imagined it more peaceful, but for now, you are content with this. You always imagined dying with dignity. You always imagined dying of old age, yes, probably alone, but alone in a warm bed and satisfied with how you lived your life. Not scared and crying and at the hands of someone you’d come to love. It’s almost as painful as the physical pain. But nonetheless, a welcomed death. The beauty of dying is short lived by the tug of your hair pulling you from the ground. 

He was right. _**You didn’t die.**_

Strong arms wrap loosely around you as you’re lifted from the ground before pushed back onto your back. The world around you seems to return; little patches of light make their way, and the fuzzy colours before you begin to merge into a face. Hidan isn’t careful in tearing your shirt apart to reveal your chests. His calloused hands moving across your skin are so uncanny, gentle and foreign to him, for a split second you’re able to convince yourself you aren’t in your current predicament. 

His thumb caresses below your belly button before he moves his hands up to cup your breasts. He squeezes lightly before squeezing harshly and laughing as you moan involuntarily. His lips hover briefly over your skin. His eyes watch as blood trickles down between the cress of your breasts, to your stomach. With a fethearlight touch, his lips press above your belly button, where the fall of blood has stopped. 

From there, his warm lips begin to kiss up your stomach, suckling on your skin as his tongue latches on to every droplet of blood. Unable to move, your chest heaves as you endure his kisses up your body. They are surprisingly gentle. His face buried between your breasts he lavishes up the blood hungrily but carefully with his tongue painting pictures on your skin. 

He nips below your collarbone before kissing up your neck, to your chin, then lips as he scoops up the remaining blood in your mouth. Pulling back, he grins at the slight horror on your face to see your blood smeared all across his mouth. 

Your body and mind fails you again as you begin to fall out of consciousness. However, you don’t miss the way Hidan carefully pets your head as if you were his dog - _his bitch_. Carefully he situates himself between your legs and rests his body against you. “Remember,” he chuckles, bending down to peck your nose, biting lightly on the tip, “You are Jashin’s gift to me. _Don’t you forget that, y/n.”_

His grin is manic and filled with nothing but impure intentions, but his fingers combing through your hair in a tender manner helps to finally push you back into a deep sleep, away from the pain and away from the horrors which are your lover.


End file.
